


A Dance in the Snow

by Eleos



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, F/M, Fluff, Holiday Fic Exchange, Snowball Fight, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleos/pseuds/Eleos
Summary: An ice demon comes to Sunnydale to cause some winter mischief, and Spike and Buffy cause a little mischief of their own.





	A Dance in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JuweWright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuweWright/gifts).



****Spike loved ice demons. He loved destroying them, that is.

They all thought they were cool as hell, freezing people with their hands and creating patches of ice for you to slip on. Take this demon, for example. The wanker had created a miniature snowstorm right in the middle of Sunnydale—just begging for someone to notice the flurry magically emerging out of a graveyard in an otherwise muggy December. 

_So bloody arrogant._ Spike grinned, baring his sharp incisors. He’d enjoy taking this demon down a peg or two.

Spike opened the gate to the graveyard, sinking knee deep into a fresh pile of snow as he entered. “So much for subtlety.” Some demons had no finesse.

Inside the cemetery, the white snow whirled around him, and the sky was cloudy and dark. Spike pulled back his hood—at least the sodding sun was covered—and began analyzing the scene for any movement, any sign of life.

_Gotcha_. Spike caught a flash of blue from behind a large memorial gravestone. Grasping the metal rod in his hand, he slowly inched forward, carefully not looking at the angel statue. Three steps past the stone, he spun around, brandishing his weapon and baring his full demon face. 

...Buffy Summers stood in a fighting stance, bundled in her light blue coat with a wooden stake in her hand.

“Oh, it’s just you,” she said, lowering her weapon.

“Don’t sound so happy to see me, pet.” Spike winked. “People might get ideas.”

“And what kind of ideas would those be, Spike?” With her hands on her hips, blonde hair tied haphazardly back, and bubblegum pink lipstick, she looked a bit like a fairy—one of the good ones, of course.

Spike grinned. “Why don’t we head back to my place, and I’d be happy to show you.”

Buffy shook her head. “You have a one-track mind.”

“Not necessarily a bad thing, is it?”

“We need to take care of this ice demon first. Have you seen him?”

“Fuck the ice demon.”

“Well, if you insist,” Buffy smirked, taking out her cell phone and pretending to look through her contacts. “Do you have his number? It’s a bit late notice, so I’m not sure if he’d be free tonight. 

Spike growled, pinning Buffy against the gravestone, his hands on either side of her head. “Don’t try me, Slayer,” he said.

“Or what?” she asked.

In response, Spike leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his body against hers and wrapping a hand in her hair.

“Well, if this is my punishment, I think I might keep trying my luck,” said Buffy, breathing heavily. “Some big, bad vampire you are.” Spike could see the bits of snow melting on her eyelashes as she looked up at him. He kissed her again.

Buffy leaned into him, her gloved hands scratching at his back. “Aw, Spike, you can do better than that,” she taunted. 

They were always like this, always sparring, always fighting, but lately there was little bite behind it. The Slayer drove him mad: with frustration, with confusion, with desire.

Whether they were kissing or fighting the latest monstrosity to emerge from the Hellmouth, he and Summers were constantly battling each other in a twisting, turning dance. Sometimes the dance was light, like a cha cha. Sometimes it was intense, like a tango. And other times it was dark and quick, like capoeira. One of them would strike a blow, and the other would follow suit, circling each other, but they would always end up together in the end. Like moths drawn to a flame...or an ice demon drawn to the snow. 

“Well isn’t this a lovely gathering?”

Spike whipped around, breaking free of the kiss. Before him was a blue-grey humanoid demon, sharp icicles sticking out from his arms and legs and light blue eyes glinting from deep-set eye sockets.

“Sorry to break up the party,” the demon rasped. “It’s not very _ice_ of me.”

Buffy groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Spike nodded. “Look, mate, your little snowstorm is already pretty lame. The least you could do is work on some better puns before you interrupt us. We’re clearly busy.”

The demon growled. “You’ve breathed your last, Slayer! And you,” he turned to Spike. “Traitor to demonkind. You’ll pay.” He held his hands aloft, creating a flurry of snow that spun up from the ground with dizzying speed, forming a tiny polar tornado.

Buffy stood up straight, rolling her shoulders in readiness for the fight. “All right,” she said. “So we’re gonna do this, huh?”

The ice demon growled.

Buffy dodged the ice tornado heading her way, watching as it crashed into the angel statue. Dashing forward, she delivered a roundhouse kick to the ice demon’s chest.

The demon grunted, grabbing at her leg, but she was too quick. Buffy twirled around, landing on her feet and dropping low to avoid the icicles spinning out of the tornado, which had turned back around. “You better hope you didn’t damage my boots,” she said.

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Spike grabbed the demon from behind, twisting him around and bashing his head into a gravestone. The supernatural being growled, grasping behind him and pulling Spike down with surprising strength.

“Stronger than he looks,” Spike gasped, before a wad of cold, hard snow splattered on the ice demon’s head. The demon turned, loosening his grip long enough for Spike to break free.

“Watch the hair, Summers,” Spike said, patting his gelled blonde hair. “That snowball hit a little close.”

“Oh, yes. I’m _terribly_  sorry for saving you, Spike,” Buffy grinned, grasping her stake and doing a backflip so she was standing atop the prone ice demon, who had just begun to get up.

Without preamble, she stabbed her stake into his heart, and the demon vanished in a cloud of icy dust—his polar tornado disappearing with him. “Well,” she said, wiping the snow off her gloves, “that wasn’t so bad—"

A snowball hit her square in the back.

“That was for my hair,” said Spike. “You know better than to turn your back on an enemy.”

“Are you my enemy now, Spike? I thought we’d gotten past that.” Buffy bent low, eyes on the smirking vampire, and scooped up a snowball of her own.

“Oh, we have, love,” Spike said. “But snowball fights are an all out war. Different rules apply.”

Buffy hurled a snowball at him, which he dodged.

“C’mon, don’t be mad just because I’m the Snowball King,” he said.

“One good shot while I was saving you from an ice demon doesn't make you a king, Spike.” 

Spike held his hands up. “I think I’ve earned it. And you know you love the dance we do, Summers. You love the competition—I hit you, you hit back. Nicely, of course.” He shrugged. “Not my fault if my aim is better.”

“You’re insufferable,” said Buffy, walking up to him. “You know your ego is bigger than your head, right? That can’t be healthy.”

“Ah, but you love it, pet.”

Buffy grinned, running a finger along the vampire’s collar. She circled him, wading through the snow with a dancer's grace.

“And you love _me_ ,” she said when she made her way around to his face.

His eyes never left hers, so he didn’t notice her hand in her pocket, grasping a fistful of snow.

“That I do, love. That I do.”

Buffy grasped the hidden snowball and smashed it all over Spike’s chest. “I love you too,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for JuweWright for The Melting Pot's Have Yourself Merry Little Exchange 2018! Prompt: A Dance in the Snow or a snowball fight (Spuffy). I hope you like it! :)


End file.
